On Purpose

~28~

When I got home, I couldn't stop thinking about my mom. Her leaving, the time I spent waiting, and the blame I put on myself. How could she do that to me? To my dad?
I sank into the couch, feeling the weight of it all. Maybe I should've talked to her, tried to understand why I hated her. I can't even figure out why she chose to date someone like Peter, what did she see in that Ken doll?
I needed to distract myself, fast.
"Hello?" Kyle answered after a few rings.
"Hey, it's Oliver."
"No shit, caller ID exists."
I brought my hand close to my face, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement.
"Stop being a smartass."
"Oooh, Mr. Olly Rhinestone has grown some balls."
I stifled a laugh.
"Hey, what are you up to?"
There was a long pause.
"Trying to turn that fake pregnancy into a real one."
I gagged.
"Forget I asked," I said.
"Forget what?"
"Thanks." I exhaled and leaned back on the couch.
"I'll meet you at our bar," he said when I stayed silent. I smiled and nodded, forgetting he couldn't see me.
"Cool, be there in five."



I entered the bar and found Kyle already there, waiting. He had a glass of a brown liquid and was gazing out the window.
I removed my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. Our eyes met as I was about to sit down.
"Hey, O-Man," he greeted with a smile, revealing his white teeth. His hair was tied up in a bun and he wore a red flannel shirt.
"Hey," I replied, running my fingers through my hair.
He must have sensed the sadness in my voice because he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and gave me a serious look. "What's wrong?"
My hand fell onto the table. I glanced at him, then looked down again, searching for a better way to begin the conversation.
"I saw my mom again."
There was a pause.
I look up from the table and Kyle's eyes move left than right, his eyebrows frowned. He clearly didn't know about my mother leaving.
"She left when I was young, and I saw her." I explained. His eyes landed on me again, he leans back in his chair, his left hand falling to his lap whilst his right hand outstretched, wrapped around his glass on the table.
I don't know what else to say, then he speaks up. "I don't know what to say." He paused, then placed his hand on top of his head, right in front of his bun. "Congratulations?"
Just that one word made me want to slap the hell out of him.
"That's not a good thing." I told him. "She left me and my dad." I stop, look out the window for a second before looking back at him. "She left me and my dad for some dumbass man who used to work as a high school teacher."
Kyle sat up in his seat, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Did she come see you, or did you spot her?"
I looked away and towards my right and watched a man, maybe younger than Kyle and me. He was talking to a woman who looks around Christy's age.
"Her new husband was Isabelle's high school teacher. She invited him to the museum with us. He said he'd bring his wife and low and behold, out came my betraying mother."
Kyle did a low whistle which made me shoot him a death glare.
"I just don't see what's wrong-yes she left her life behind, that's a shitty move." I couldn't believe my ears; Kyle was excusing her.
"You're a gown man with bigger problems. You have rent, your old man's heath, and a job. You don't need to be acting like a teenager anymore. She left, you gotta move on."
He looks nervous, like i'm going to lung over the table and bash his head in.
I wanted to, but my butt stayed planted in the metal seat. I couldn't say he was wrong. I wasted my childhood with my mother leaving. I 'm an adult now, no kids, no wife, I can go shit near a tree if I wanted to. Because I was free. I was letting my mother's betrayal hold me back. I used it as an excuse to hate her, to have a reason to be mad.
I didn't tell that to Kyle of course. I said, "Thanks." Then, I stood up and walked out.